Cookies
by EAdams
Summary: Elizabeth and Darcy meet as children after a tragedy, then reconnect as adults years later. One-shot.


**_The Bennet House, December, 14 years ago_**

"Give me the star, Katie!" cried Lizzy.

"No! I had it first!"

"You've had it all morning! It's my turn!"

"Girls! Stop fighting! If you keep this up, we won't make cookies anymore!" cried their mother.

Lizzy gasped. "But it's tradition!"

"A tradition you clearly don't appreciate." Sarah Bennet closed her eyes and took a deep breath, bracing her hand on her sore back. "Now, Katie is only four, she doesn't have the self-control you do. Be kind to your sister. You were just as unruly when you were that age."

Lizzy hung her head. "Yes, ma'am."

"Why don't you let her use the star now, and you can work on the snowmen? No one can make a carrot nose quite like you." She tweaked Lizzy's nose and smiled.

Lizzy smiled and moved to the other side of the table where her sister Mary was placing candy buttons down the center of a gingerbread man.

A timer went off and Jane leapt up to grab the last batch of cookies out of the oven. The kitchen was filled with the smell of sugar cookies and gingerbread.

"You can sit down, Mom. I'll put them on the cooling rack," she said happily.

"Thank you, Janey." Sarah lowered herself into a chair slowly, Lizzy rushing up to her quickly.

"I'll take off your shoes!" she said cheerfully. She began untying the knots on her mother's shoes while humming along with the Christmas music playing in the background.

Her mother smiled at her over her swollen belly. "What good helpers I have! What would I do without my girls?" she said fondly.

"Do you think the baby will be a boy?" asked Lizzy.

"I don't know, sweetie. I just want a healthy baby, but between you and me, a boy would be nice, wouldn't it?" she winked secretly.

Lizzy nodded eagerly. "What if it's twins and we get two boys?"

Sarah groaned. "No, not twins! We've already had a look and there is just one baby in there, though it certainly looks like two, doesn't it?" she said with a rub to her belly.

Jane set a glass of water on the table next to her mother. "Here you go, Mom. Dad said we couldn't let you be on your feet too much and that you had to remember to drink enough."

"Are you spying for your father now?" she asked teasingly.

The girls giggled. Mary walked up quietly and held out a decorated gingerbread man for her mother's inspection.

"Oh, Mary! That's beautiful! What a perfect little gingerbread man! I'm so proud of you, sweetheart." She kissed the top of Mary's head as the quiet girl beamed, a gap where one of her front teeth was missing and an icing smudge on her glasses, wisps of brown hair falling into her face.

Sarah looked around the room, at the table covered in icing and cookie crumbs, and the counters covered in cooling racks filled with cookies waiting to be decorated.

"I have the sweetest girls. Come here, my darlings." They piled in for a group hug.

"Hey! I felt the baby!" cried Lizzy.

"Me, too," chorused her sisters.

Four little hands pressed into Sarah's belly as the baby inside kicked and rolled around. The girls burst into giggles and exclamations. She felt her eyes welling up and wiped a tear away before her children could see it.

"Isn't that your favorite song?" Mary asked.

Sarah looked up and listened. _Edelweiss_ had come on the rotation of Christmas music playing in the background. She knew it wasn't Christmas exactly, but she always watched _The Sound of Music_ with the girls at the start of every Christmas season and it just felt like the holidays to her.

She stood and they all swayed to the music, doing basic waltz steps through the kitchen. Jane grabbed Mary and eight-year-old Lizzy grabbed Katie and spun around with her. Sarah swayed with a hand on her belly until she felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind.

"Dancing without me, my girl?" asked a deep voice in her ear.

She turned around with a smile on her face. "James! You're back early!"

"I could smell the cookies all the way at the office. I just had to come home and get some."

The children piled in on him and he laughed and picked up Katie and twirled her in a circle.

"My sweet girls." Sarah kissed them each on the head and smiled. "Now, let's get the rest of these decorated so we can pack the tins for your grandparents."

 ** _One Month Later_**

Mary and Lizzy were walking down the stairs, Lizzy chatting at her sister, when suddenly Mary screamed. Lizzy looked down and saw her mother at the bottom of the stairs, a pool of blood beneath her and growing larger.

The girls ran down the stairs, Mary crying and running to their mother, Lizzy going straight for the phone.

She knelt next to Sarah, blood soaking into her jeans, and spoke to a 911 operator. Mary laid her head on her mother's shoulder and Sarah weakly embraced her, not opening her eyes, but making soft shushing sounds.

"Yes, no, yes. No, my father isn't here. No, she's not talking. Hurry!" Lizzy's voice on the phone drifted into Sarah's ears, Mary's muffled sobs in the background.

She tried to tell them to call their father, but her voice wouldn't cooperate.

* * *

James sat next to the hospital bed, his wife pale and waxy, the enormous bulge in her belly the only sign that she had been vibrant and full of life just a few hours ago. They were about to take her into surgery and he'd been given a minute to talk to her.

"James," she whispered, her voice quiet.

"Shh, you're going to be just fine, dear. I know you're sad about the baby, but it wasn't your fault."

"If I don't make it out –," he interrupted her.

"Don't say that! You'll be just fine."

"James, you have to listen to me." He looked into her steely eyes and nodded. "Jane is responsible but don't let her become the mother. Ask your parents for help. Encourage her to talk to you or she'll keep everything inside. Don't let her do that!"

He nodded, a tear escaping down his face.

"Lizzy adores you. Don't shut her out. She'd never recover. And don't let her get lost in her books. Make her go to dance class and talk to people. And make her practice! She has a gift – it would be wrong to squander it."

She took a weak breath. "Mary is quiet, but she has a lot to say if you get her alone. She likes to play the piano. I know she isn't good yet, but she loves it so much. Promise me you'll keep taking her to lessons. Maybe the older girls can go with her."

He squeezed her hand. "Katie is just a little baby. Don't let her forget me, James. Take care of my baby." Her mouth trembled for a minute and she continued. "She likes to be sung to at night, and when she has a cough, rub her back and give her hot honey and lemon tea. She likes it and it soothes her throat. I hid the easel I got for her birthday in the back of the garage, behind the lawnmower. Don't forget about it."

She talked on until the doctors came to get her. She told him to remember that Jane has riding lessons every Monday at four, and that Lizzy has to take them, too for at least a year before she's allowed to quit. Soccer practice is on Wednesdays and Mary is moving up a level this year. She really wants to be a goalie and likes to practice in the backyard. Katie loves to swing, but don't push her too long or she'll never learn to do it herself. Lizzy liked to do every activity with each of her sisters; she would eventually need to learn to focus. She was excelling in her dance class – make her stick with that for a while. Katie wanted to dance, too.

The list went on as she was being wheeled down the hospital corridor until eventually James reached a point where he couldn't follow. He kissed her gently and told her he loved her, and stood watching her being rolled down the hall with a sad sense of finality.

* * *

 ** _Downtown Meryton, December, 13 years ago_**

"Do we have to go?" asked Lizzy

"You said yourself that baking cookies was a Christmas tradition," replied her father.

"I meant," she stopped herself before she could say 'baking with Mom'.

"I know, poppet." Her father squeezed her next to him and they walked the remaining block into the bakery. There was a sign outside that read "Christmas Cookie Workshop for Kids".

He opened the door and his four daughters walked in ahead of him.

"What do you think, Lizzy?" Jane whispered.

"I think it'll be lame but we have to be nice so Dad won't feel bad," said nine-year-old Lizzy.

Jane nodded.

They looked around the crowded room. There were children with their mothers in one corner, a group of dads and little kids in another, and a table with a few kids that looked close to their age without any adults.

"Come on," Jane said. At eleven years old, Jane was the usual leader of their little gaggle of girls.

Their father was talking to the baker so they grabbed their little sisters' hands and went to the kids' table. Mary jerked her hand away, disliking being treated like a little girl now that she was seven, and Katie clung desperately to Jane's hand. They sat at the end of the table and waited patiently for instructions from the baker.

Eventually each child had some dough and cookie cutters and they were passing a rolling pin around the table. Their father had left to do some Christmas shopping, he'd said. He tried to look cheerful, but they knew it was killing him go through the holidays without their mother. So they smiled back at him and told him they would be fine. They were polite to the baker, even though she wasn't as nice as their mom and didn't dance when the best songs came on. And they shared with the other kids at their table, even though they weren't always very nice.

One boy in particular was very grumpy. He made Katie cry when he wouldn't share his star cutter with him and he finally gave it to her when Lizzy shot him an accusatory look. He stayed close to another boy that was a little smaller than him who seemed more cheerful, but both of them were pretty down.

"Could I have the rolling pin, please?" asked Jane. She was talking to the smaller of the boys on the other end of the table, though he was still considerably bigger than her and Jane was tall for her age.

"Sure." He passed it to her and she handed it back gracefully when she was finished. He then asked her for the green icing and she passed it, and soon Jane and the blond boy were talking off and on.

The bigger, darker boy was glaring at them and Lizzy wondered what his problem was. Jane could talk to anyone she wanted to! Besides, couldn't he see they were having a rough holiday? Would it kill him to just be nice?

Katie seemed to eventually get into everything and had a good time. The baker even sat with her in her lap and helped her put buttons on the snowman. Lizzy had to fight a swell of rage on seeing her sister in another woman's lap.

Mary had a decent time, but she seemed caught between being sad that their mother wasn't there and enjoying herself. She was actually smiling after an hour, though. Lizzy was the only one who wasn't having fun. Even Jane had started to laugh with the blonde boy. Janey called him Charlie.

"Can I have the blue icing, please?" Lizzy asked the dark boy. He glared at her, then scooted it in her direction. She rolled her eyes at him and went on decorating her snowman. She had a way with the carrot noses.

Finally, she looked over to the boy's part of the table and saw several intricately decorated ornaments at his station. Impressed, she leaned closer to look.

Forgetting how mad she was at the world for a minute, she asked, "Do you take art classes?"

He looked at her for a moment before saying, "I did."

"Why don't you anymore?" her innate curiosity wanted to know.

"None of your business," he snapped.

"Fine, don't tell me!" she snapped back. She went back to her own cookies and began working on a Christmas tree.

They worked quietly for the next quarter hour, Mary and Lizzy speaking to each other and working together on Mr. and Mrs. Claus cookies for their grandparents.

"Lizzy, can you show Charlie how to make the carrot noses on the snowmen?" Jane asked.

"I can show you, Charles," said the mean, dark boy.

"I can do it," Lizzy asserted. She moved to the other side of the table and showed Charlie how to apply the icing without too much pressure.

"Where do you go to school?" he asked the girls.

"Longbourn Prep. It's a girls' school," said Jane.

"I know. I go to Netherfield Academy," he said. "So does he." He gestured across the table to the mean boy.

"Oh! That's just across the street!" It was a generous way of putting it. The schools' entrances were across from each other and even shared a crossing guard in the mornings, but the schools themselves were each on hundred acre campuses and behind large stone walls. Aside from sharing some athletic fields and a pool on the north side, they had nothing to do with each other.

The dark boy snorted and Lizzy glared at him.

"What grade are you in?" Lizzy asked him.

"Eighth," he said. After a minute he asked, "You?"

"Fourth."

Jane told them she was in sixth grade and Charlie said he was in seventh. The two of them continued talking, clearly enjoying themselves.

Lizzy decided she needed to stop pouting. What had her mother always said? 'Just because something doesn't go your way, it doesn't mean everything is ruined. You can still have a good time. Just adjust your expectations.' She had had to explain what expectations were, but after that Lizzy had thought it very good advice, especially when playdates didn't go as planned.

 _I just have to adjust my expectations,_ she thought. _I expected my mother to be in my life and now she's not. I thought she would bake Christmas cookies with us and now she won't. I thought we'd all be happy forever, and now…_

She ran out of the bakery, not wanting everyone to see her cry. She ducked around the corner, off the busy street, and sat on the cold concrete, her arms around her knees and her head ducked down. Her hair wrapped around her face and she hid behind it, crying softly.

A few minutes later, she felt a tissue thrust into her hand. She looked up and saw the mean boy from inside. He was sitting beside her on the cold ground, looking blankly at the brick wall in front of them.

"Thanks," she said as she blew her nose.

"You're welcome."

They sat silently together in the small alley, not looking at each other, until finally he spoke.

"Jane said you were probably upset about your mom."

Lizzy scrunched up her face for a minute. Jane wasn't supposed to be telling everyone everything all the time. But he had just found her crying in an alley, so she thought she should say something.

"She died. Last winter. She fell down the stairs."

He nodded. "My mom died last winter, too. Car crash," he said in a choked voice.

She looked at him in surprise. "Were you in the car?"

He nodded. "I was the one who called the ambulance. They didn't get there in time."

"I was, too. Mary and I found her at the bottom of the stairs. She was about to have a baby. Our little brother died, too."

She picked up a stray rock and threw it at the brick wall across the alley.

He nodded again. "I'm sorry about your mom. And your brother."

"I'm sorry about your mom, too." She laid her head on his shoulder and he stiffened, surprised, but eventually leaned his head over hers.

"My dad is sending me to England," he said several minutes later. "He wants me to go to a boarding school. He says it will be good for me." He scoffed.

"Do you have any friends there?" she asked, her head still on his shoulder.

"My cousins go there. That's why he wants me there. He says I'll build my own life and make friends and move on. I think he just doesn't want to deal with me anymore."

"Do you like your cousins?"

"They're all right."

"Is your dad nice?"

"I suppose. He's not mean."

"Maybe it won't be so bad."

He looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. "My dad is really sad. I heard my grandparents telling him he needs to let himself grieve and he said he can't because of us. Do you know what that means?"

"I think it means he can't be sad because he has children to take care of, so he never really gets to cry about your mom. My family says stuff like that, too. They don't think I'm listening, but I am."

"Me, too."

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lizzy. What's yours?"

"Will."

They sat there a while longer. He reached his arm around her and she snuggled into his side, her head on his shoulder. He kept her warm and her hair tickled his chin.

Finally, when their legs were falling asleep, they stood and walked towards the door.

"I've never been to England," she said just before he opened it.

He shrugged. "It rains a lot."

"Will you write to me if you go there?" she asked.

"Sure. If you want me to."

"I do. And I can tell you everything that's happening in Meryton so you won't miss anything!" she said, pleased with her own helpfulness.

He smiled sadly. "Okay."

Later, when Jane and Lizzy were talking in their room before bed, Jane said, "Charlie's mom died last winter. He says that's how he and Will became friends. Both their moms died in car crashes."

"That's sad," said Lizzy. "Was it the same crash?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask."

"Hmm. Will says he's moving to England."

"Why?"

"Boarding school."

"I'm glad Dad didn't send us to boarding school," said Jane.

They were lost in thought for a few minutes. "Do you think Dad's going to be okay, Janey?"

"I don't know, Lizzy. I hope so."

"Me, too."

* * *

 ** _Meryton, Present Day_**

"All right, children, it's time to get started. You'll see each table has several colors of icing and rolling pins to share, and each station has a ball of dough. We'll walk around and show you how to roll it out. DO NOT hit anyone with the rolling pins."

Lizzy walked from table to table, helping the kids roll out their dough and place their cookie cutters. She looked at the tables with a bit of nostalgia. After that first awkward Christmas, they'd come to the bakery every year. She and Jane were old enough to bake cookies on their own at home, but their younger sisters liked going and her father liked knowing they were all together and happy on a Saturday afternoon while he got his Christmas shopping done. Three years after their first visit to the bakery, he married the woman who owned the little shop.

Julia didn't dance like their mother had and she wasn't as fun-loving, but she was kind and generous and very good to all of them. The girls soon grew to love her and Katie, who was eight when they married, eventually called her Mom. The older girls couldn't forget their own mother, but they loved their step mother in a different way and their home was happy, even happier when Julia had twin boys when Jane was sixteen and Lizzy fourteen. There were plenty of hands to help and the Bennet home once again rang with the laughter of tiny children.

Lizzy sighed. She'd worked at this bakery every summer and Christmas break since she was fifteen years old. In January she would leave for England for a semester abroad, then she would graduate in May.

She looked over at the table where she had sat with her sisters all those years ago. She remembered Charlie, the blonde boy who'd sat by her sister and begun a life-long friendship, unbeknownst to anyone. Charlie had proposed to Jane Thanksgiving weekend and they would marry the following summer. He was a new lawyer at a firm in Boston and Jane had one more year of dentistry school. They would be deliriously happy, she knew it.

She thought about Will as he was then. He had been dark and broody and difficult, but then when she had needed it most, he had been a friend to her. They'd written each other letters regularly for several years. Sometimes a month would pass between exchanges, sometimes just a few days, but they always kept in touch. Then Will went off to university and the letters got farther and farther apart until they stopped coming altogether. By the time she graduated high school, she hadn't heard from him in months.

They'd never seen each other again after that day at the bakery. They'd exchanged a few pictures, usually silly ones. She showed him her new braces, he showed her the horrible hair cut he'd been given in his sleep by some boys in his dorm. The last shot she had sent him was in her homecoming dress when she was sixteen. He'd told her she looked lovely and that her date had better treat her right or he would have him to deal with.

She was hurt when he quit writing her, until Charlie told her his father had died and that he was buried in work and school and trying to figure out what to do with his sister. Georgiana had been a toddler when their mother died and had gone to live with an aunt and uncle during the week, and with her father on weekends. Eventually, the entire family moved back to England. Georgiana went to boarding school when she was old enough and the siblings saw each other on holidays and school breaks. He used to say he wished Lizzy was his sister, as it would be nice to have someone closer to his age who could play ball with him, but he quit saying that by the time he was eighteen.

She had almost done something impulsive and flown over to see him when she heard about his dad, but Jane convinced her that it was irrational. What could a 17-year-old American girl do to help a guy in England dealing with very grown-up issues? She would most likely be in the way. So she, Jane, and Charlie all went together on a bouquet of flowers and had them sent to his house in England, even though it was a month after the funeral. They never heard back from Will.

She wondered if she should send him a letter now, letting him know she would be in England for the spring. Just to see if he wanted to get together for a cup of coffee or something. But he probably didn't have time, she told herself. If he'd wanted to get in touch with her, he could have sent her a letter any time in the last four years. Her address hadn't changed. She had gotten a beautiful bouquet of flowers when she graduated high school, and she had thought for a wild moment that they were from him, but there was no card and in the end she decided they were probably from an elderly uncle who'd just forgotten to give the florist a message. After all, she'd gotten several other bouquets that week from various family members.

She decided not to send a letter. She'd go to England and if she had time, she'd look him up. If he wanted to meet with her, all right. If not, no harm done. A lot could change in four years, anyway.

The first few weeks in London flew by. Before she knew it, it was the middle of February and she decided she needed a job. Her father gave her an allowance and she had saved money over the years, but with the exchange rate and the expense of the city, she needed extra cash. She didn't want to ask her father for it. He was already paying all her tuition and expenses, and Mary was in college, too. Her little brothers were still at home, eating everything in sight. Katie was graduating high school in May and she knew they had big graduation gifts planned for both her and her sister. On top of all that, Jane was getting married at the end of June.

No, this was not the time to be selfishly asking her dad for pocket money so she could buy clothes and go to the movies. All her experience was in baking and babysitting, so she thought she'd start there.

After asking at four different bakeries, she finally found one that was hiring. They asked her all sorts of questions about what she knew how to do and she answered satisfactorily, and after a quick test that consisted of her baking a few things for them, she was hired. The money was nothing to get excited about, but the hours were perfect for her schedule. She went into the bakery at four most mornings, was out by nine, and had plenty of time to get to her ten o'clock class. She had Saturdays off and worked late on Sundays. The bakery also made simple lunches and she was always told to grab a sandwich on her way out the door, cutting down on her own food expenses. Not only did she not have to ask her father for money, she was actually able to add a little to her savings account. She had her eye on grad school, and she hoped she wouldn't have to work through that.

By the end of February, her curiosity got the better of her and she decided to look for Will. She had a few addresses for him. One was a dorm room at school, clearly of no use any more. Another was for a home in London and another was for a country house that he said he stayed at in summers with his aunt sometimes. She plugged the London address into her GPS and followed instructions. Oddly enough, it wasn't too far from the bakery she worked at. After counting the house numbers, she was standing in front of a historical townhouse in Notting Hill, wondering what she should do now. She couldn't just knock on the door. That would be awkward. And rude.

She had an old phone number that she quickly tried, but it was disconnected. Unsurprising since it was several years old. She needed a plan. Deciding she should think about this further, she left the house with her scarf pulled high and her umbrella low, barely missing the dark, anxious man that walked out a minute later.

Another week passed before Elizabeth came up with a plan. She would deliver a box of treats to his house. The bakery did deliveries all the time, so it wouldn't be too strange. If he was a jerk, as she was afraid he had become in her darker imaginings, she would say it was the wrong house and leave. He probably wouldn't recognize her. It had been years and without her sparkly homecoming dress, he wouldn't even know her.

If he was great, she could introduce herself again and see what was there.

Pleased enough with her plan, she packed a box with all his favorites, paid for it with her employee discount, and headed out after her shift on Sunday. It was noon and she'd been working for the last eight hours. She'd dusted as much flour as possible from her person and she thought she looked pretty decent, but not great. She was sure he would be up by now, since he'd never slept past ten in all the time she'd known him.

She rang the bell and stepped back, her stomach fluttering with nerves. A soft voice asked who it was through the door.

"Bakery delivery," she called.

The door opened and a very pretty blonde woman stood in the doorway, a man's shirt her only clothing. It hung halfway down her long legs and was unbuttoned a bit at the top. Her hair was silky and tousled and her skin bare but still dewy somehow, like a perfectly rumpled sex kitten.

Lizzy stared and opened and closed her mouth a few times without speaking.

The woman smiled and held out her hand. "Is that a delivery for us?"

"Oh, right, yes. Sorry. Bakery delivery."

She thrust the yellow box forward and the woman grabbed it by the strings. "I didn't know Will ordered anything! This is my favorite bakery. Hold on, I'll get you something."

Like an idiot, Lizzy stood there until the woman popped back into the doorway with a tip. She took the coins with a simple thanks and put them in her pocket, leaving in a daze.

 _You idiot! Stupid, stupid girl!_

So that was why he quit writing. He clearly didn't need any kind of female companionship, that much was obvious. He didn't need his fake sister anymore, either; he'd had a real sister all along. Whatever she thought her place was in his life, it was clearly no longer needed.

She finally admitted to herself that while her relationship with Will had begun in a sisterly fashion, they had then become very good friends. And toward the end, there had been definite flirtation. At least she thought there had been. They'd had a few phone conversations where he'd shown off his new rumbly, deep voice and she had teased him mercilessly.

It was time to face the music. She had developed a crush on her childhood friend.

And while she had dated other boys in high school and even had a fairly serious relationship in college, she had been comparing them all to him. And they had all fallen short. None were as smart as him or as witty or had the same sense of humor. None were able to call her on her crap or tell her when she was being a pigheaded dunce and to stop it already.

He was four years older than her. What did she expect, that he would be waiting for her to come and find him when he hadn't made contact with her in over four years? What a stupid child she was being!

She went home and lay on her bed feeling sorry for herself for the rest of the afternoon, then went to the cinema to see a film on her own. Something with explosions and bad lines so she wouldn't feel in the least bit romantic.

She hadn't missed her mother this badly since she was nine years old.

* * *

In Notting Hill, Rachel quickly popped into her room and put on a robe. She nudged the body in the bed with her foot.

"Come on, sleepyhead. Breakfast is here."

She left the room and went to the dining room, putting milk, orange juice and a few plates and forks on the table.

"Good morning, Rachel," said Will as he walked into the room. "Where's Richard?"

"Still working his way out of bed. I told him food was here, though, so I suspect he'll be out soon."

They shared a smile and he poured himself a glass of juice. He opened the box and began filling his plate with a gooey cinnamon roll – his favorite, and mini apple tarts.

"Thank you for getting breakfast. That was kind of you," he said.

"Oh, but I didn't. I thought you had ordered it. A girl from the bakery just delivered it."

He looked at her in confusion. "You didn't order it?"

"No. I didn't even know they delivered."

He looked at the top of the bakery box. He recognized the name and the logo. It was only a few blocks from there.

"That's strange," he said quietly.

"I suspect she just delivered it to the wrong house, poor dear. I hope she doesn't get in too much trouble," said Rachel.

"Yes, that must be it. Lucky that they ordered cinnamon rolls. I haven't had any like this since I lived in the States."

"You poor man, stuck on our sad little island without your favorite pastries," teased Rachel with a smile.

"Shut up, you," he responded with a grin.

"Hey, who's telling my wife to shut up?" Richard asked as he entered the room. He leaned over the chair and kissed Rachel's cheek, then took the seat beside her.

"Your cousin, quite rightly. I was meanly teasing him about his American past."

The two smiled at each other and Will ate his cinnamon roll, thinking he hadn't had one like this since he lived in Meryton.

* * *

Unable to quiet his curiosity, Will went to the bakery with the yellow sign the next morning. He saw no one he recognized and nothing unusual. He didn't even know what he was looking for, really.

Lizzy was in the back, taking out her wounded spirits on a lump of bread dough.

He went again a few days later, on Saturday. He ordered a cinnamon roll but they were out. Apparently the girl who makes the ones he wanted wasn't there on Saturdays. He'd have to have another kind or come back Sunday.

Sunday morning, unable to put his finger on what was nagging at him, he went to the bakery again. He ordered a gooey cinnamon roll and the girl behind the counter laughed and called it "the American". She told him all the Americans in the area ordered it, and the girl who baked them was also American. She couldn't understand the appeal of them herself, but to each his own. She looked over her shoulder and said he was in luck, a new batch was just coming to the front.

He looked to the kitchen doorway and saw a girl that looked vaguely familiar holding a large tray of cinnamon rolls. She set them in the rack and closed the glass door over them.

"That's the last of them, Abby. Anyone else wants an American, they'll have to come back tomorrow."

She walked back into the kitchen and he stared after her. He asked the girl behind the register, Abby, about the baker. Luckily, she didn't need much encouragement to talk. "Oh, that's Lizzy. She's here on a semester abroad. Worked in a bakery back in America. Where was it? Maryville? Merton?"

"Meryton?" he asked, his voice high and his brows at his hairline.

"Yes, that's it! Do you know it? She says it's not but a small town, but you know how these Americans are. Everything's enormous but they just think it's normal. She's always talking about how all the steps are so short here. The steps!"

He blocked her out. Lizzy from Meryton, who worked in a bakery, who knew how to make his favorite cinnamon rolls, was working here, at a bakery a few streets over from his house.

A letter from several years ago worked its way forward in his mind.

 _Now, Julia says the trick is not to overwork the dough. She would ground me for a week if she knew I was giving you this recipe, so don't tell anyone. But since it's your birthday, and you said how much you missed them, I'm risking my very freedom to give you the gift of gooey American cinnamon rolls in your English exile. Just don't show it to anyone else!_

He had tried to make them, and nearly set the kitchen on fire. The housekeeper had forbade him from ever touching her stove again and he had sent a rather funny rendition of the story to Lizzy.

 _Oh, you poor baby! I promise that if I'm ever in England, I will make them for you. Maybe I'll even teach you how to do it so you can have them anytime you want. Just don't catch me on fire or anything._

"How late does Lizzy work?" he asked.

"Till noon on Sundays. Do you want to talk to her?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you."

He looked at his watch. 11:30. He went for a short walk, and was back just before noon. He waited outside the door until he saw her.

"Lizzy!" he called.

She turned to look at him, nodded, then continued walking. He caught up with her.

"Lizzy, wait!"

"What do you want, Will?" she asked.

He looked confused. "I want to talk to you. Why didn't you tell me you were in England?"

"Why didn't you write me any letters over the last four years?" she threw back at him. He looked sheepish. "There you go."

She started walking again and he ran after her. "Wait. I want to see you. Can I take you to dinner? Coffee? Something!"

"Won't your wife have a problem with that?" she spat.

"My wife? What are you talking about?"

"Tall, blonde, ridiculously good hair. Runs around the house in your shirt," she said acerbically.

"Rachel? My _cousin's_ wife?"

She stopped and looked at him. "Your cousin's wife?"

"Yes. They recently moved abroad and were back visiting." He removed his left glove and held up a ring-less hand. "I'm not married. Never have been."

"Oh." Out of steam, she didn't know what to say.

He stepped a little closer to her, a smirk on his face. "Were you jealous?" he asked in a low voice.

"No," she said petulantly. "Just hurt that you would take such a big step and not even tell me about it."

He frowned. "I'm sorry, Lizzy. I should have kept in touch. Can you forgive me?"

She looked thoughtful. "I want to know something."

"Anything."

"Why did you give me up? Why was it so easy for you to do? To just let me go like that? Did you even miss me at all?"

"God, yes! I missed you all the time! And it wasn't easy. Everything just got so crazy after Dad died. I had so much to deal with and no idea how to deal with it."

"I could have helped, or at least comforted you!"

"Lizzy, you were seventeen," he said gently. "And the kind of comfort I wanted from you wouldn't have been right to take."

"Oh," she said, her face flushing. "So who did comfort you?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "No one. I spent all my time with lawyers. My aunt was trying to get custody of Georgiana, the business needed me, I was a student myself. It was all a mess. I didn't need confusing feelings for a girl who wasn't old enough to reciprocate them clouding things any further."

"Oh," she said again.

"But it wasn't fair to you. I should have thought about what it would mean to you, me just disappearing like that. I was selfish and caught up in my own grief and stress. I'm sorry, Lizzy. I never meant to hurt you. You must know that."

"I know now."

He pulled her to him gently and hugged her. "Come to lunch with me? I can hear your stomach growling through your coat."

"Okay. Nowhere too fancy. I'm not dressed for it."

"You got it."

She smiled when he led her to his house. They ordered take away and caught up on everything that had happened in the four years since they'd talked.

"Have you talked to Charlie at all?" she asked.

"Yes, just a few times. He called to tell me when he proposed to Jane."

She looked at him strangely and he wondered what she was thinking.

"Lizzy," he said hesitantly, "are you seeing anyone?"

"No, not currently. You?"

"No, not for a while." She nodded. "Would you consider seeing me?" he asked.

"Seeing you romantically?" He nodded. "Me and you?" He nodded again. "So, you're asking me to what? Be your girlfriend?"

He chuckled. "We don't have to jump right into that necessarily, but yeah, I like the idea of it." She looked at him with wide eyes. "We can try a few dates and see how it goes – see if there's any spark. How does that sound?"

"That sounds good."

They smiled at each other and he took her home. He left her outside her doorway with nothing but a soft touch to her cheek.

 _Spark._

She met him for an early dinner after classes on Wednesday. She was home by eight in deference to her early work schedule and he held her hand when they left the restaurant and kissed her cheek, dangerously close to her mouth, before he left.

 _Spark_.

Friday, she could stay out a little later since she had the next day off. He took her to the ballet, followed by dinner at a cozy fondue restaurant. They laughed and dipped everything imaginable into cheese. The last course was a chocolate fondue and he licked the tip of her fingers when she fed him a bite.

They lingered outside her door, talking softly and postponing their separation as long as possible. But Lizzy couldn't hide her yawns and they couldn't ignore the fact that it had begun to snow. He eventually smiled and dipped his head down, kissing her softly while he played with a strand of her hair that had escaped her hat. She smiled and watched as he got in his car, his step light and carefree.

 _Spark_.

He left town for a business trip, she worked on a group project for one of her classes. Friday evening he cooked her dinner, she made dessert – pear tarts with a sticky glaze.

After eating, they sat on the couch and talked, her back to the arm and her cold toes under his thigh. He rubbed her calf lightly through her velvet pants.

 _Spark_.

"How long are you here for?" he asked. Somehow, they had talked about all sorts of things except what each of them were currently doing.

"Early May. Graduation is the eighteenth. I'm walking."

"Can I come?" he asked, his eyes on his lap.

"Of course, if you want to. Katie graduates a week later. It will probably be hectic, but I'd love to have you there."

He smiled. "Are you coming back after graduation? And I don't think you told me what you're graduating in."

"Sorry about that," she smiled sheepishly. "I'm majoring in chemistry." His brows shot up. "And I have news."

"Oh? What is it?" His hand drifted further up her leg, tickling her knee.

 _Spark_.

"I've been accepted at Oxford for grad school!"

"Really? That's wonderful! That's less than an hour away!" he exclaimed with a wide smile. "I don't know what I would have done if you'd gone back to the States for good."

"You'd miss me bad, huh?" she teased.

"I've been missing you for years," he said softly, his expression suddenly serious.

"Will," she began hesitantly, "I know it was crazy when your dad died and you had a lot on your plate, but after things calmed down, why didn't you contact me? I would have understood. Hell, when Charlie told us your father had died, we even sent you flowers. I would have welcomed you back with open arms, well, you know what I mean, but I never had the chance. Why?"

He withdrew his hand from her leg and stiffened in his seat. "It's complicated, well, maybe it isn't. It was a long time before my head was above water. More than a year. I guess I thought that it had been too long. You had that boyfriend you were going out with and were graduating and going off to college. I was some old, depressed guy you used to know." He shrugged. "I guess I just wasn't sure of my place in your life, and I didn't really think I had anything to offer. I've thought about you a lot since then. The last two years especially. Things had finally calmed down enough for me to catch my breath and I finally started feeling like I was living, not just surviving.

"I asked Charles about you; he said you were dating some guy from your university and that it looked pretty serious." He looked away. "We were getting a little old to do the whole brother/sister thing, and besides, I hadn't felt that way about you in a long time. I just, I don't know, Lizzy, I guess I chickened out. I didn't want to disturb your life." He looked at her and squeezed her leg. "But I never forgot about you, Lizzy. Please don't ever think that. You were always on my mind."

She gave him a wobbly smile and willed herself not to cry. He gave her hand a tug and she was in his arms, almost in his lap, her face buried in his neck and his arms wrapped tightly around her back.

 _Spark. Spark. Spark_.

"I'm so glad you're coming back, Lizzy. I don't think I could say goodbye to you again."

"Me neither," she said, her voice muffled by his sweater.

He smiled softly, stroking her hair. "Then we won't." _Not ever_.


End file.
